


Mjölnir

by brickhousewriter



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age of Ultron, Doombots, Fix-it fic, Fluff, Gen, Missing Scenes, Mjolnir - Freeform, fixit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 04:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4086847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brickhousewriter/pseuds/brickhousewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a fixit fic for two things that felt not-quite-right for me in The Avengers: Age of Ultron.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mjölnir

_Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of THOR!_

***

The party at Stark Towers, the defacto Avengers headquarters, had gone on for hours, but was finally starting to wind down. Guests had staggered home, or been tucked into cabs paid for by Stark Industries.  Now only the members of the Avengers and a few close friends were left, still enjoying spending time together that didn't involve uniforms and gunfire.   The coffee table was littered with drink glasses, cocktail napkins, and beer bottles. Thor set Mjölnir down with a thunk on a clear space at the edge of the table.

Clint eyed his teammate, took a long drag on his beer, pointed the neck towards the hammer on the table and laughed. “Who so ever, be he worthy, shall have the power.” He waved his hands, “Whatever man…. It’s a trick.”

Thor dropped onto the long sofa next to Steve. “Oh, it is much more than that my friend.” His face lit with that ready, confident smile that made him so attractive to the inhabitants of Mitgard. He was relaxed and despite a night of heavy drinking, only slightly drunk. Thor had heartily enjoyed the evening, surrounded by his friends with plenty of good food and drink near at hand. It was almost like being back on Asgard in the feast halls with the Warriors Three and the Lady Sif after a mighty battle. Thor sighed happily and settled back into the cushions, cradling his glass.

Clint raised his eyebrows at Thor and stared down the long coffee table at the hammer. Thor could see it in his teammate’s eyes, he wanted to try to lift the hammer, feel its weight in his palm. This had always been a favorite game back on Asgard. There had always been a steady stream of new recruits to the Royal Guard, eager to prove their strength to their crown prince. And foolish enough to lose their pay wagering against their success. So far as he knew, only one person besides Thor and his father Odin had ever lifted Mjölnir.

The vast amounts of mead he’d already drunk were evident in the expansive gesture Thor made towards Mjölnir, “Please, be my guest.” He grinned.

Tony turned a critical eye on Clint, then glanced pointedly back to Thor. Even the well tailored dinner jacket couldn't hide the Asgardian's bulging muscles. “Come on.” Stark rolled his eyes.

Clint wasn’t sure if he should rise to Stark’s bait or not. He eyed the hammer again, then looked at Thor, “Really?” He didn’t look quite as eager as the green recruits, but the desire, or perhaps something more like an overwhelming curiosity, was plain on his face.

Thor laughed, that ready smile as always on his face. “Yeah.” He waved towards the hammer, sure that none of the present company but he could lift it.

Tony couldn’t resist the chance to needle Clint again. “Now Clint, we know you’ve had a tough week. What with regenerating half your innards and all. We won’t hold it against you if you can’t get it up.”

Clint stood up and considered the hammer. “You know I’ve seen this before right? I was there in New Mexico. With Coulson.” He’d been there, and he’d heard about all the locals who had tried to lift the hammer before S.H.I.E.L.D. had taken over the scene. There had been a steady stream of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who had tried to move Mjölnir until Coulson finally heard about the betting pool and restricted access to the hammer to just science section. Clint had arrived on the scene too late to attempt lifting it himself. But he’d heard the stories. And he’d seen the medical write-ups of the two agents who had put themselves into the hospital, one with a torn bicep, the other with a damaged rotator cuff. So even though he knew he’d probably fail, he had enough beer in him that taking the chance didn’t seem like such a bad idea. He grasped the handle of the hammer firmly and pulled. The muscles in his arm bulged, but the hammer stayed where it was on the table. He tried again, and this time he grunted. Sometimes grunting helped. He heaved until he felt like if he didn’t stop he was going to strain his shoulder, but the hammer didn’t budge. He laughed, “Jesus, I still don’t know how you do it.”

“Can you feel the silent judgment?” Tony quipped.

“Not so silent Stark.” Clint shot back. “But please Tony, by all means.” Clint waved at the hammer, sure that Stark would be no more able to move it than he was.

“Never one to shrink from an honest challenge.” Tony tossed back the rest of his drink and set the glass down. He stood up and shook out his shoulders so that his jacket fell straight. He looked around the room to make sure that all eyes were on him before he approached the hammer.

“It’s physics.” He explained, waving his hand gracefully, as if this was a problem he’d solved long ago but hadn’t bothered applying until now.

“Physics?” Bruce echoed. He still remembered what it had felt like when the Other Guy tried to lift Mjölnir during his battle with Thor on the Helicarrier. Granted, he’d been flat on his back and hadn’t had the right leverage…..

Tony nodded. Then addressed Thor, “Alright, if I lift it, do I get to rule Asgard?”  Because Tony couldn't help but raise the stakes on anything he did, it made things more exciting. And he was amused by the idea that once he lifted the hammer, he’d be able to lord it over the Norse God and all of Asgard.

Thor laughed, “Yes, of course.” And took another swig of his mead.

“I will be fair, but firmly cruel. And FYI, I will be reinstituting Prima Nocta.”

“That’s not funny.” Steve scowled at his teammate.

“What?” Tony looked confused.

“Rape jokes aren’t funny Tony.” Bruce said.

Tony let go of the hammer, “What are you talking about?”

Clint picked up his beer. “ _Jus primae noctis_ , the right of the first night, the right of the lord of the manor to deflower the peasants’ brides on their wedding nights? How is that not rape Tony?”

Tony gaped at him.

Clint took a long swig of his beer. Tony was still staring at him. “What? I read….”

Tony shook himself, “So is that what that means? I had no idea. I just figured whatever it was was primo, so I wanted in.” Tony looped the strap around one wrist, and grasped the handle.

Natasha gave him a long look. “Tony, you are such an idiot sometimes.”

“What? I probably slept through that class in college. I slept through a lot of classes. It’s a thing that I do after staying up all night in the workshop. I was probably busy rebuilding Dum-E for the ninety-ninth time instead of doing the reading or something.” He readjusted his grip on the hammer as if it was a golf putter, wiggled his hips as if addressing the ball, and pulled.

And nothing happened.

Tony heaved again. Thor and Steve exchanged a knowing smile over their drinks.

Tony unhooked the strap from his wrist and straightened his jacket. He pointed to everyone and no one in particular, “Be right back.”

Everyone laughed as Tony stalked off towards his workshop. He was back in a few moments, the latest incarnation of an Iron Man armored gauntlet on his left hand. He gripped the hammer again. There was a faint glow from the gauntlet as he engaged the repulsor.

The hammer didn’t move.

“It’s a trick.” Tony muttered to himself before he stalked off again. He was gone longer this time, and they heard muttered cursing and metallic banging before he returned. He tossed one of Iron Patriot’s gauntlets into Rhodey’s lap. “What’s this?”

“You in or out my friend? And the answer better be in, because you owe me.” Tony signaled to Rhodey to join him beside the hammer on the coffee table. “Right here Rhodes. Fall in. On the double. Chop chop.”

“If I help you lift it, does that mean I’m going to be co-ruler of Asgard with you?” Rhodes looked at Stark, then at Thor.

“Just suit up.” Tony snarled. Rhodey pulled on the glove and stood up.

Tony grasped the hammer, and James placed his hand right above it. “Are we even pulling?”

“Are you on my team?”

“Just represent! Pull!”

“Alright, let’s go. On three. One, two, three!” They both grunted. The hammer didn’t move. Both gloves glowed as the repulsors kicked in.

The hammer didn’t budge.

Rhodey was the first to give in. “I’m sorry Tony, but my hand is getting hot. Dude, give it up.” He collapsed back onto the couch and stripped off the gauntlet, tossing it onto the coffee table with the rest of the party detritus.

Bruce had been thinking over Tony’s physics comment, and he thought he had worked out the answer. When Tony finally gave up, he approached the table and positioned himself over the hammer. Then he stood on the coffee table, so he could use both his feet as leverage against tale as he tried to lift the hammer.

But despite his best efforts, the hammer didn’t budge. He grunted and tried again. He briefly considered unleashing The Other Guy, but thought better of it since he liked the jacket he was wearing. But he couldn’t resist giving voice to a strangled growl that he knew sounded more like the Hulk than Bruce Banner. He looked around the room to see if he’d gotten a reaction.

Five Avengers looked back at him, deadpan. They could see that there was not the faintest hint of green on his skin.

“Nah?” Bruce slunk back to his seat and reclaimed his beer.

Steve stood up next and rolled up his sleeves.

“Come on Cap!” Sam called.

Steve grasped the hammer with both hands and heaved.

“Go Cap!” Clint cheered him on. Surely if any of the Avengers was worthy of lifting Mjölnir it was their leader.

Thor smiled, safe in the knowledge that only he could lift Mjölnir. Just then the hammer shifted. It was almost imperceptible, but Thor had been watching closely. The smile on his face melted away. He tried to remember if more than one person at a time could wield Mjölnir? If Steve became the owner of the great hammer, would Thor lose his powers again?

Steve grunted and gave another mighty heave, but the hammer stayed where Thor had left it. He sighed and made a gesture of surrender, flopping back down on the couch next to his teammate.

Thor laughed, “Nothing!” he raised his glass and toasted the Captain’s efforts. And if he downed the drink a little too quickly, none of his teammates commented on it.

Bruce looked around the room. Each of the male Avengers had tried their hand at lifting Mjölnir. He quirked an eyebrow at Natasha.

Natasha and Maria had been sitting off to the corner, quietly making Doctor Horrible jokes for the past several minutes. When Bruce finally caught her eye and waved towards the hammer, she laughed and said, “Oh no, no. That’s not a question I need answered.” She sipped on her beer and tried not to make eye contact with Maria, for fear that they’d both burst out laughing. They’d just been discussing how “The hammer is my penis.”

Tony was walking around the hammer, eyeing it. He pointed towards the runes on the side of the great metal mallet. “I think the literal translation of that is, whoever is carrying Thor’s fingerprints can lift me. Isn’t that the literal translation?”

“Yes, well, that’s, uh, a very interesting theory. But I have a simpler one. You’re all not worthy.” Thor stood and picked up the hammer easily and flipped it in the air, catching it neatly.

The team groaned at him.

***

It was about a month later when it happened.

The alarms in Stark Tower went off in the middle of the night. Over the blaring of the emergency klaxon, Jarvis’s calm voice informed the Avengers that Dr. Doom had released a phalanx of Doombots on New York City. The mechanized attackers were pouring out of a portal in the middle of Central Park.

As always, Natasha was the first one suited up. Tony had a secret theory that she slept in her uniform, a theory that for some reason Jarvis refused to corroborate for him. Nat always took the least time of any of the Avengers to get ready when the alarms went off. By the time the rest of the team reached the armory just off the hanger, Natasha was already holstering her guns.

Clint was the first one through the door. He grabbed a pair of quivers and slung them over his shoulder, then turned towards Natasha, who tossed him is favorite bow. Catching it, he headed out the door towards the hanger deck, “Thanks, I’ll get started on pre-flight.”

“Be there in five.” She called after him, grabbing a couple more spare clips and slipping them into pockets in her uniform, before grabbing another handful of taser discs.

When Steve trotted up to the door, strapping on his helmet, she picked up his shield and tossed it to him, Frisbee–style. Steve caught it and swung it over his shoulder, where the magnet strapped to his back caught it and held it like a backpack.

Thor jogged to a halt at the door to the armory, his broad shoulders and broader cape filling the doorway.

“Here.” Natasha handed him Mjölnir as she pushed past him. Thor accepted it, then stood there stunned when he realized what she’d just done.

Tony skidded to a halt behind him. “Did she just….”

Thor nodded. Steve just stood there, looking shell shocked.

Natasha was already halfway through the hanger, jogging towards the open ramp of the Quinjet. “We’ve got work to do. You boys coming?” She called over her shoulder, not looking back.

Steve shook himself, and turned towards the jet. The other three didn’t move.

As the engines of the Quinjet cycled up they started to whine. Clint bellowed down the open ramp at them, “Come on guys, Doombots!”

“Let’s go Avengers!” Steve’s voice echoed in the empty hanger, jolting everyone out of their stupor. Tony, Thor, and Bruce raced up the gangplank into the back of the Quinjet, and before the back hatch was even closed Clint was taking off, engines screaming as he poured on the power.

Steve wasted no time calling up Central Park on the monitor, assessing the location of each of the Doombots on the screen as they poured through a large portal in the middle of the sheep meadow and started fanning out. Cap was already planning the civilian evacuation of the area in his head, worried about if there were crowds at the bandshell for a concert, or late night diners lingering over coffee, and how long before the first Doombot reached Tavern on the Green?

“Are we not going to talk about this?” Tony sounded peeved.

“Not now Stark, we’ve got civilians to protect. This is the city that never sleeps, remember?” Steve replied, not even looking up from the various colored dots displayed on the monitor, busy noting the location of human signatures and Doombots. “Jarvis, can you get me the NYPD on the horn?”

Clint leaned over and whispered to Nat, “What’s eating Tony?”

Natasha shrugged, “On the way out the door, I might have just _accidentally_ handed Thor his hammer.”

Clint raised an eyebrow at her. “Really?”

“It was an accident.” Natasha said, then pointed towards the radar, “Clint, incoming!”

Clint dove and then pulled a hard turn to avoid the Doombot that was shooting missiles at them. 

Tony stumbled as they banked.  "Barton!"

"Sorry guys, time to go to work!" Clint shouted as he opened the back hatch to allow those that could fly a chance to exit the Quinjet before he set it down at the edge of the park.

For the first few minutes the Avengers were too busy to do much of anything except focus on herding civilians out of the line of fire and bashing as many of Doctor Doom’s mechanized menaces into rubble as possible. The Hulk bounded across the open field, sweeping up metal bodies and either bashing them together or ripping them limb from limb. Natasha followed in his wake, tagging each piece of Doombot debris with one of her taser discs, leaving a trail of grotesqly jerking and sparking limbs as she followed her teammate across the park.

Captain America took careful aim and heaved his shield. It took down a Doombot, banked off a tree, and lined up perfectly to knock down three more of the humanoid robots that had foolishly lined up in a column. They fell in a tangle of metal arms and legs, and there was a brilliant flash as Thor called down lightning to fry the circuits of the downed Doombots before they could stand up again. Steve caught his shield, and raced over to the first fallen Doombit to slam the shield into the body, neatly slicing the robot in half at the waist.

Steve’s voice cut across the comms, “Stark, what are we looking at here? They’re starting to fan out and Hulk can only smash so many of these things. Is there an easier way to disable them?”

“Jarvis’s scanning says Doom ever so helpfully built these beasties with an off button at the back of the neck. Try hitting them there.” He watched an arrow sink into the back of the skull of one of the vaguely humanoid robots and it sank to the ground and lay still. “Nice one Legolas. Or cut the main power, which is approximately anywhere an artery would be.” Three more Doombots dropped as arrows found the Doombot equivalent of carotid arteries. As he flew past, all three Doombots exploded as the fuses on the arrows triggered.

“Was that really necessary? Singed my suit!” Tony groused, twisting and turning as he flew past, palms out, blasting at the line of Doombots with both hands.

“Better safe than sorry Stark. On your six.” Clint let fly another arrow, and the Doombot tumbled back to earth, gouging a long furrow as it plowed across the lawn before coming to rest in a ball of crumpled metal against the base of one of the trees.

Ten minutes into the fight, Tony’s voice came over the coms again, “Are we _really_ not going to talk about this?”

“Not now Tony.” Cap swung his shield, decapitating a Doombot. “Kinda busy.” He punched a second, sending it careening into the pavement.

Half an hour later the team assembled near the growing pile of broken pieces of Doombot that Steve had directed them to collect next to West Drive. Tony flew in low, dropping two more mangled metal carcasses onto the top of the stack before hovering and lowering himself to the ground. He flipped open the visor on his helmet and turned to Cap, “So can we talk about this now?”

“What Tony?” Steve was supervising stacking the debris in such a way that the City could more easily cart it away in the morning.

“The fact that our very own Itsy Bitsy Spider just casually handed the Thunder God his mighty hammer, and none of you batted an eye about it?” Tony scowled at each of them in turn.

Hulk bounded up and deposited an armload of Doombot parts on the pile. He gave Tony an evil grin and bellowed, “Puny humans!” in his face before bounding off into the trees in search of more Doombots to smash.

Steve just looked at his teammate. He was still coming down off the serum-fueled adrenaline high that he always got when he went into battle, which sometimes made it hard to focus enough to follow Tony's lightning fast mood changes.

Clint couldn’t resist the opportunity to needle Stark, “What’s the matter Stark, jealous?”

“No, just thoroughly confused as to how out little Russian friend has bested not only the greatest mechanical mind on the planet, yours truly, but also our chemically enhanced fearless leader, that would be you Cap, and even the ever Incredible Hulk.” He waved his hand off toward the meadow, where a giant green form was quickly disappearing into the early morning gloom. “How is that even possible?”

Thor glanced at Natasha, standing straight and tall, watchful beside the pile of metal parts. He smiled at her, then spoke, “The answer to your question is simple my friend.” Thor shrugged and gave a casual toss of the hammer, spinning it in his hand. “Clearly the Widow is worthy.”

**Author's Note:**

> So I finally took the leap and jumped into the Marvel Cinematic Universe. If you enjoyed this, remember, kudos and comments are so important to encourage writers to keep writing. Please be kind, I’m new to writing these characters.
> 
>  
> 
> Dialog shamelessly borrowed from these two videos:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R6eMfej7zjo
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=viK5I5eYtbo
> 
> No copyright infringement intended.


End file.
